Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I climbed mount daffy
with a rucksack
full of Kerouac
lightning on my back
when there approached
three tortoise that
spilled their breath
upon my Birkenstock

[enlightenment comes
in three hour intervals
maybe in meta fours]

socks up to ankles
when seven rang!
a drone of mystiks
echoes in a canyon
belonging to apricot
landings (foreboden)

golfer's tales
and wooden sails
the ship
no longer synchs
against the beats
where silence seeps
a watchtower sneezes
into everheart breezes
succumbing to bats
draped in white

(lies!)

behave the rails
that spot the tails
beaver chews the bark

(......dogs!)

lost the round
no longer found
mysteries laugh out loud

(a nude poem upon a cushion flat)
_______________________
mtmynd aka Cecil B. Lee

One thing I didn't like about Kerouac is how he seemed to have it out for the railyard employees and the cops around those operatons (justified or not), where he used to work.

"Drone of mystiks" Haha.
(That's kind of how I feel about Bob Marley, sorry Bob)